


Maybe, Sometimes

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 01:55:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, people work late. And sometimes, when people work late, things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe, Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Lisa's fault. She made a post about [how it would be really hot if Axel got a facial](http://conigliomannaro.livejournal.com/23263.html) while he was wearing [these glasses](http://www4.images.coolspotters.com/photos/93296/prada-glasses-profile.jpg) and well, I had to agree, because not only do I have a glasses kink but I also have a kink for office clothes and office sex and oh yeah, FACIALS. So yes, delicious filth is delicious and though the actual porn bit is short-ish it is ALL FOR YOU. ♥

It isn't as if Roxas has never thought about it. Hell, he's pretty sure that half the people in the office have thought about it for one reason or another. Whether it being just a way to pass the time, or because they get off on the whole _authority_ thing, or just because they can. It isn't really possible to _not_ think about it with the way Axel saunters about the office, half flirting, half socializing. And fantasizing about your boss isn't _exactly_ a crime.  
  
So yes, Roxas _has_ thought about it. Rather a lot. In fact, he's passed a lot of rough days imagining it. Days when Axel has to come down on them hard because of something one of them have fucked up, hissing his disappointment at them for what seems like an hour but is actually closer to fifteen minutes. He always looks like he feels bad about it afterward, which in turn makes Roxas feel a little guilty for tuning out the entire lecture in favor of eying the curve of Axel's spine speculatively and imagining what he'd look like stretched across Roxas' tiny desk, breath coming in short, uneven gasps and rocking back onto Roxas' cock. And then there are the _really_ bad days. The days that it isn't just upper management pressuring Axel into talking to them, but days where they have well and _truly_ fucked up. Days when the company loses money because of _them_ specifically. Days when Axel is so pissed off that there isn't any guilt in his eyes at all as he snarls at them.  
  
Those days, when Axel gets up in their faces- expression feral, tugging at his tie in an effort to loosen it because he's so utterly _furious_ , raking white knuckled fingers through his hair and loosing half of it from his messy ponytail- Roxas watches Axel's eyes darken with anger and disappointment and his mouth goes dry, half formed fantasies of Axel shoving him up against the wall and just _fucking_ him chasing themselves through his head.  
  
Half the time he can't even be bothered to be irritated about it, because really, it's not as if it's _all_ of their faults. The chance to be agitated is stolen from him, swept up by the way Axel paces as he's shouting, red faced with fury. So Roxas goes quiet and flushed, tries to tuck himself further back into the crowd of employees and interns so he can hide the fact that his face isn't red because he's _embarrassed_ but because of how fucking _intensely_ turned on he is.  
  
There are, of course, the good days- but those are almost worse. Because Axel is actually a good manager. When Roxas had first been shafted into the company with too little pay and a too small desk and too many assholes working around him, he'd been a little incredulous when he was introduced to Axel. Fact of the matter is, Axel isn't what you'd expect out of a manager, even just the manager of the PR department, of a major corporation. He's an oddity- red hair so bright that it's surely come from a bottle, pale skin tucked beneath neat suits that barely hide the tattoos on his wrists, a faint indentation on his lower lip that surely comes from a lip ring, not to mention the faint glimpses Roxas has gotten of his _tongue_ ring. No, Roxas hadn't expected his manager to look like he went clubbing after he got off work, but that's what he'd gotten.  
  
And Axel _is_ good at his job. He handles disasters with a practiced kind of ease when lesser men would be panicking, he's nice to the employees, going so far as to actually know even the lowliest of the interns' names. He's efficient, brutal when he needs to be, and keeps them all on task. Mostly.  
  
He occasionally joins them for coffee in the break room, and it isn't awkward at all when he easily strikes up a conversation about when Kairi is due or if Demyx has gotten rid of that awful roommate yet.  
  
It's not so much that he has good days and bad days, but more that the good days are most days and the bad days are very rare. For Roxas though, it's difficult. Difficult not to spill his coffee all over himself when Axel comes up behind him to read his reports over his shoulder, breath hot and light against the back of his neck. Difficult not to embarrass himself when Axel grins at him and says "Nice work, Roxas."  
  
It's difficult, because Axel always catches him when he's least expecting it. Like last Tuesday when he'd shown up at the urinals just as Roxas was finishing up, chirruping out a cheerful "Hey, kid!" when all Roxas could think was _why the fuck is he using our bathrooms? Oh fuck, his dick's out. Don't look, don't look, don't look._ Or like a few Saturdays ago when Roxas had woken up to his phone going off and then Axel's voice, a little bit frantic despite the semblance of control, asking him "please, please, I know it's your day off, but can't you come in? It's bad and half our interns called in sick and pretty please, I'll buy you a beer or something sometime?" when he could have just demanded Roxas show up like a normal manager.  
  
So Roxas thinks about it. He watches Axel and guiltily jerks off into his cold sheets at home to the thought of that mouth stretched around his dick, those pale hips reddening and bruising at his touch, those lips gasping his name.  
  
But the thing about fantasies is that they never _really_ happen. So Roxas thinks about it, but he never actually expects anything to come of it. Axel is his ridiculously hot, cockteasing boss and Roxas is a lowly intern and all is right in the world.  
  
Of course, there are some things he hadn't taken into consideration.  
  
Like the fact that sometimes, people work late. And sometimes, when people work late, things happen.  
  
.  
  
That Friday starts well enough. His alarm goes off at a quarter to five, and he slides grumbling into the shower at ten to five, and by the time he gets out the door he's early enough that he has time to stop for a decent cup of coffee rather than settling for the cheap, burnt roast they serve at the office. He even gets a bagel.  
  
Work itself starts nicely too. The other employees are marginally more cheerful than usual and Axel himself is all smiles, calling hello to everyone he passes and actually stopping by Roxas' desk for a brief discussion on the merits of good coffee before he steals a sip from Roxas' cup and hurries back to his office. It's nice, and the first half of his day passes in a haze of _Axel drank from this cup_ and rushed synopses of why their company will suit someone's needs better than _that other one._  
  
In fact, the day goes so well that he excuses himself and eats lunch at the nice bistro a few blocks away, treating himself to a proper sandwich, salad, and some potato soup instead of grabbing fast food somewhere.  
  
And then, around 4:45, everything goes to shit. Which is to say his computer crashes. Loudly. Messily. With sparks.  
  
Now normally, this wouldn't be _that_ big of a problem. There are power outages, and they have a protocol for this sort of thing. Namely, it's underlined and bolded on signs big and small all over the office telling them to _save_ every _five_ minutes to the main server.  
  
Which Roxas has not done. In fact, he hasn't saved since about noon.  
  
So he watches as his fellow employees trickle out of the office, leaving him to the luminescent glow of Demyx's computer and a cold cup of coffee.  
  
Demyx's desk is littered with half written songs and music sheets stained with rings of coffee. There are candy wrappers tossed in random areas and crumbs all over the keyboard. The "a" key sticks. But it's better than the lump of charred wires and scorched plastic that was Roxas' computer, so he gets to work.  
  
.  
  
It's not until nine that he realizes he has company. When he does, it's because he's skulking about the darkened break room, trying to brew a cup of coffee while he familiarizes himself with a rival company's policies and Axel quite literally runs into him.  
  
It goes a little like this.  
  
.  
  
Axel's elbows are bony and when he comes through the door, they go right for Roxas' ribs. The entire coffee pot- full to the brim of glorious, scaldingly hot coffee slips from Roxas' hands, shattering all over the floor and dousing him with, as previously stated, _scaldingly hot coffee_.  
  
There is much cursing to be had, mostly from Roxas, who has been simultaneously scalded and terrified by the sudden appearance of his boss in what he'd thought to be an empty office building. There are apologies on Axel's part and then rushed apologies on Roxas' part and it's all terribly awkward until Axel tells him to drop his pants.  
  
Then it just gets uncomfortable.  
  
"Um, what?" he asks, because surely he'd imagine-  
  
Axel hisses. "Pants. Off. Your legs are burnt."  
  
To emphasize this, he stoops to trail a hand along the wet fabric covering Roxas' calves, looking extremely unsurprised when Roxas winces.  
  
"See? Take them off. I might have a spare pair in my office."  
  
And then he absently tugs at Roxas' slacks, moving as if to go for the belt buckle and-  
  
"I've wanted you since that time you came over to my desk and yelled at me for twenty minutes straight. All I could think of was how much I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me."  
  
Axel looks startled, then a bit curious.  
  
"I'm sorry, what?"  
  
"Er."  
  
Stop. Rewind. It really goes something like this.  
  
(Though it may have been faster that way.)  
  
(Just a little.)  
  
.  
  
The break room is dark save the faint light filtering in through the windows, which Roxas is pressed up against, trying in vain to read by streetlamps and moonlight rather than just turning on the overhead. He's just gotten to the part about life insurance when the door opens.  
  
Axel looks tired. He looks nothing like the cheerful manager who had stuck his tongue out and mischievously stolen some of Roxas' latte that morning. The blazer is gone, leaving him in a rumpled dress shirt- sleeves rolled up past his forearms and unbuttoned nearly to his collarbone. His hair is half out of it's customary pony tail, leaving messy red tendrils to lick at his cheekbones, probably the result of his habit of tousling it when he's stressed. And... he's wearing glasses.  
  
Roxas doesn't think he's ever actually seen Axel in glasses.  
  
They suit him, he decides. They're perched lazily on the bridge of his nose, silver frames with a tiny stylized Prada logo across the temple arms. They bring attention to his cheekbones, make his eyes look greener than they usually do.  
  
They look nice.  
  
"When did you get the glasses?" he asks curiously, watching as Axel starts, whole body tensing up and turning quickly. He lets out an explosive sigh of relief.  
  
"Jesus Christ Roxas, why the hell are you still here?"  
  
Roxas waves the stack of papers in the air, taking a quick sip of burnt coffee. "You didn't hear my computer _explode_?" he asks, snorting. He shudders and sets his coffee down. It's cold in here. "Have to finish some reports that got lost," he admits, pushing past Axel and crouching low so he can tug the creamer from the fridge.  
  
When he comes back up, Axel is quick to meet his eyes, as if he'd been looking elsewhere and.. ah. That would explain the faint flush. When he passes by again he lets their shoulders drag together, smiling when Axel sucks in a quick breath.  
  
"How about you? I would have thought the boss would've left hours ago."  
  
He stirs some of the creamer into his coffee, shivering in pleasure when he takes a sip. Axel's fumbling for something behind him, and when he turns around it's to the sight of Axel pulling hot chocolate out of it's hiding place atop the fridge. He huffs a laugh. "I'd wondered whose that was. Hot chocolate? Really?" he grins.  
  
Axel makes an indignant noise and shakes a packet at him, "I'll have you know that hot chocolate is perfectly masculine."  
  
"And delicious," Roxas adds, grinning into the rim of his own mug.  
  
Axel looks like he's going to say something else, deflates. Smiles. "And delicious," he agrees, filling a mug with water, dumping the powder in, and shoving the drink into the microwave.  
  
He props his elbows onto the counter, leans back against it, eying Roxas strangely. He gives a groan of frustration. "I'm here because one of the newer interns misplaced some files. I've just found them, but I've still got some of my own work to catch up on and. Well. Here I am."  
  
Roxas' smile goes wider as the microwave dings. "Here you are," he agrees.  
  
He watches as Axel stirs the chocolate in and takes a sip, mouth curving upwards in pleasure as a contented noise spills from his lips, eyes slipping closed. After a moment they flicker back open, glazed and much happier than they'd been a moment ago. He pushes forward off the counter. "So, show me what you've got so far," he grins, leading Roxas out of the break room and back over to Demyx's desk.  
  
"I'm almost done," he says when Axel leans down over the chair to eye the screen, idly flicking through the tabs Roxas has up. His shirt's riding up in the back, revealing a sliver of pale skin and the faintest of glimpses of sharp hipbones. There's another tattoo there, at the small of his back, not like the thick flame-like black bracelets winding around his wrists, but smaller. He cocks his head. It looks like a stylized eight, almost simple except for the way the thickness of the ink becomes almost pencil thin at one side and-  
  
"Is that an eight?" he asks, reaching forward and stroking a finger along the thicker side, the way it curves- the black of the ink standing out in sharp clarity against the paleness of his skin.  
  
Axel shivers at his touch and goes still, glancing over his shoulder at Roxas and clearing his throat. Belatedly, Roxas realizes what he's doing and hastily removes his hand. "It's uh... an infinity symbol. I went through a phase when I was younger where I was a little obsessed with the concept of immortality. It was my second, so... yeah."  
  
"What was your first?"  
  
Axel goes red and coughs, leaning over the keyboard again to point out a phrase that could probably be worded better. When Roxas moves beside him to reach the keyboard better, he goes still again and pulls back a few paces, face still red. It's hard, typing out the changes half bent over the desk chair with Axel standing quietly behind him in a darkened building, but he manages it.  
  
He turns toward him, questions about budgeting already half formed on his lips, and catches that same too quick movement of Axel's eyes, meeting his too fast, too guiltily.  
  
It's quiet in the office. Dark and quiet and they're the only ones there, the cleaning crews not due for another two hours or so and they have the entire floor to themselves and _his boss is feeling guilty and awkward about checking him out._  
  
Roxas isn't to blame at all for what happens.  
  
Kissing Axel is surprisingly easy. He goes still at first, lips slack, slightly parted in surprise and Roxas frantically thinks, _fuck, shit, I didn't mean to do that,_ before Axel presses back against him.  
  
It's better than fantasizing, this kissing business. Axel's mouth is slick, velvet against Roxas' winter chapped lips, and tastes faintly of lip balm and chocolate. His tongue rasps against Roxas' lower lip gently, licking wetly into his mouth and _fuck_ , but it's a whole lot better, the way Axel's hand curves to cradle the back of his skull, sliding into blonde curls and _clenching_ there.  
  
They stagger first into the desk, sending some of Demyx's music notes fluttering sadly to the floor and a pencil or two rolling right along with them, and then into the wall of the cubicle, where Roxas holds Axel, one hand along the curve of Axel's jaw and the other curled at the small of his back, right over that damned tattoo. It's a bit awkward at first, because the looks that Axel is sending him over the edge of his glasses are hot as hell, the way they're ever so slightly askew and how when Roxas pulls away for a second Axel bites his lip and rocks their hips together, but the glasses do kind of _get in the way a little_. Jabbing mercilessly into his cheek and nearly stabbing him in the eye a few times when Axel moves too quickly.  
  
Roxas gets the hang of it quickly though, tilting his face the right way and it's easy after that- easy to press and rock and thrust, panting into Axel's mouth and tugging Axel's lip between his teeth, sharp bites and soothing licks. He makes to shove Axel up onto the desk but Axel just shakes his head, grinning as he drops to his knees- hands going straight for Roxas' belt buckle.  
  
He's still grinning, eyes on Roxas the whole damn time as he tugs Roxas' dick free, giving it slow, careful licks- circling the head, pressing little kisses along the shaft, tonguing the slit as if he's teasing him, dragging his tongue roughly up the whole length of him, before _fuck_ , swallowing him down.  
  
Fantasies will never work after this, because for all the times he's imagined Axel's mouth around him, it's never been like this. He's not sure if the talent is natural or if secretly Axel's an insatiable cockslut, but the man is good, _really_ good at sucking cock.  
  
It's all Roxas can do to just slide his fingers into red hair and hold him there. The ponytail's pretty much ruined, hair falling in a messy curtain over his cheeks, almost hiding how pretty he looks like this; cheeks hollowed, jaw working as he slides that filthy mouth down down down til his lips are pressed against rough blonde curls, back up slowly, fucking his mouth with Roxas' cock so fucking _slowly_ that Roxas wants to _tug_ because the fucker is enjoying this too much.  
  
He kisses it, licks it like he has all the time in the goddamn world, giving it a few tugs as he sucks on the head. He tugs Roxas' pants to his knees with one hand, still sucking and reaches back, past Roxas' balls to press one slick finger into his hole and he has to grip that red hair and _yank_ Axel off with a gasp, because then he's coming- all over Axel's face, glasses, cheeks, nose and all. Come clumping red lashes together and painting that pretty mouth white and _fuck_ , he just came all over his manager's face.  
  
It takes him a minute, because Axel just licks the come from his lips- reaching up to set the spattered glasses atop one of Demyx's music sheets and swiping a finger along his cheek, bringing it to his mouth. He's grinning, licking come from his fingers- sliding them in to knuckles and then out just as slow, just as teasing, and when he climbs to his feet and presses close, he purrs, "You didn't have to do that, I would have swallowed."  
  
And maybe it goes from there. Maybe Roxas says, soft and breathless, "Want some help with that?" and maybe he lets Axel fuck him on Demyx's desk, or maybe he lets Axel fuck him against the window. Maybe as Axel's wiping come from his face something smears, and Roxas asks incredulously, "Are you wearing _make up_?" and then with even more urgency "are those _tattoos_ on your _face?_ " And maybe Axel flushes a bit and jokes about first tattoos and how they're a bad decision in the long run.  
  
Maybe they laugh their way back into the break room and have messy, giggly sex on the table. Or maybe they move to Axel's office instead, Axel tonguing him open as the world passes them by out the window, and maybe Axel leans into him afterward and says, "You know, I have a bed at home." And maybe Roxas agrees and they leave their work until the morning. Maybe when they get home Roxas is hard again, and maybe Axel lets Roxas fuck him against his own refrigerator. And maybe they make it to the bed, Axel sliding into him just as slowly, just as teasingly as he'd sucked his cock, Roxas' knuckles going white around a fistful of Axel's pillow and maybe they both sleep in late, and Roxas wakes up to Axel's mouth on his cock again.  
  
Maybe, maybe, maybe.  
  
You never know.  
  
Because sometimes, people work late. And sometimes, when people work late, things happen.


End file.
